


A Surprisingly Casual Conversation

by LeeBlack



Series: Wolves at Your Door [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, do not copy to another site
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:07:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23935063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeeBlack/pseuds/LeeBlack
Summary: “Are you hungry?”Stiles jumped, the sudden question startling him from where he’d leaned into Peter’s embrace. He flushed red and scuttled back a few steps, doing his best to ignore the knowing smirk on Peter’s face. “What?”“Food, pet. I’m hungry.”“So go get food?” Stiles asked, narrowing his eyes at the older man, confused. “Not like I’m stopping you?”Peter sighed. “Would you like to join me for dinner?” he asked. “Resurrection is hungry business, and there are things that you need to know about, if you’re to survive in our world in a long-term sense,” he said. “And while I have no doubt the leftover Chinese food in your refrigerator is edible, I would much rather eat something that’s not hours away from spoiling.”
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Wolves at Your Door [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1720972
Comments: 21
Kudos: 1049





	A Surprisingly Casual Conversation

“Are you hungry?”

Stiles jumped, the sudden question startling him from where he’d leaned into Peter’s embrace. He flushed red and scuttled back a few steps, doing his best to ignore the knowing smirk on Peter’s face. “What?”

“Food, pet. I’m hungry.”

“So go get food?” Stiles asked, narrowing his eyes at the older man, confused. “Not like I’m stopping you?”

Peter sighed. “Would you like to join me for dinner?” he asked. “Resurrection is hungry business, and there are things that you need to know about, if you’re to survive in our world in a long-term sense,” he said. “And while I have no doubt the leftover Chinese food in your refrigerator is edible, I would much rather eat something that’s not hours away from spoiling.”

Stiles was silent for a long moment. “What kind of food?”

“Something high in protein and paid for with my nephew’s credit card,” he said with a smirk.

Stiles snorted before he could stop himself. “Outback’s not far,” he said. “As long as my dad doesn’t see me there.”

“Rest assured, pet, I will take care to be discrete,” he said. “Now why don’t you go change into something that reeks less of blood and mountain ash, and them you can drive us.”

He nodded, heading up the stairs and changing quickly. “Why aren’t you driving?” he asked as he came down the stairs, zipping up a hoodie. “Or do you like being chauffeured around by teenagers?”

Peter snorted. “The last car I drove belonged to my former nurse,” he said. “And given that I could not continue to drive a sedan with a decomposing corpse in the trunk, I had to dispose of it.”

Stiles flinched. “Creepy.”

“Yes, so you’ve said,” he said, straightening up as Stiles returned to the kitchen. “Is yours in decent enough shape to drive? You did drive it through a wall not too long ago.”

He shrugged. “It got me home and it wasn’t making any new noises. I figure I’ll take it to the shop in the morning and see how much it’s gonna cost me to get fixed,” he said. He checked to make sure the back door was locked before heading toward the front, Peter not far behind him. “How long is this pain whammy supposed to work, anyway?” he asked.

Peter watched him lock the front door behind them, and reached over to double check that it was locked. “It’s entirely dependent on the amount of pain you’re in,” he replied. “Maybe an hour, maybe less. I am more than happy to provide my services again before we part for the evening.”

Stiles got into the driver’s side of his Jeep and started it up, slumping over the steering wheel when it started without issue. “Could you phrase that any less like a come on?”

“I’ll notice that wasn’t a no,” Peter said, settling into the passenger’s seat.

“Really? Dude-”

“Drive, Stiles,” Peter said, watching Stiles.

...

Fortunately, the restaurant wasn’t too crowded. Peter steered the two of them to a booth against the back wall, giving him a clear view of the exits. And conveniently enough, shielding Stiles from view so as to avoid too many eyes on his injuries.

“So Derek gave you his credit card?” Stiles asked after they’d been seated and ordered drinks.

Peter smirked. “Derek left his credit card where it could easily be taken,” he said. “Now, I know _who_ gave you those bruises, but when did he have the opportunity?”

Stiles hesitated, not sure how much detail he wanted to share.

Peter’s amusement faded. “Pet, he’s dead. And while I do have a wealth of knowledge at my disposal, I have no interest in wasting the time and energy it would take to bring him back only to inflict further torture on him,” he said.

“Yeah,” Stiles said slowly. “That’s not really what I’m worried about.”

“Then what?”

Stiles stayed quiet for another moment before deciding not to answer. “I got grabbed when things went crazy at the game,” he said. “Got hit upside the head and went kinda fuzzy. Woke up in his basement, and he beat the crap out of me. I got out, found my Dad, and went home. That’s everything.”

“In very little detail,” Peter said.

The two of them fell silent as their waiter came back for their food order. After Peter ordering the most expensive steak on the menu and Stiles a smaller steak, an almost companionable silence fell between them.

Peter watched him calmly for a moment. “I won’t ask you to divulge everything, Stiles, but I do have a few questions that will determine how the rest of this conversation will play out,” he said,

Stiles leaned back in the booth, scowling. “Is this where you threaten me away from the Pack?”

Peter snorted. “Hardly, pet. If I’d wanted to threaten you, I wouldn’t have offered to take your pain. Nor would I have brought you here to share a meal with me.”

“Dude, you’re gonna have to spell things out for me a little bit here,” he said. “I did get hit in the head not too long ago.”

The older man nodded, his expression going almost somber before settling back into one of neutrality. “I am not here as an enemy, nor am I particularly inclined to bring you any harm at the moment,” he said. “I am here as a member of the Hale Pack, to check on your injuries and ensure you are not suffering unnecessarily. As any respectable wolf would do for a human Pack member.”

That took Stiles by surprise. He let out a gusty sigh and scrubbed a hand over his head. “Okay,” he said carefully. “When did I become part of the Hale Pack?”

“Since you have met him, how many times have you helped my nephew when his life was in danger?”

Stiles shrugged. “I don’t know, four? Five, maybe, if you count the whole harboring him while he was a fugitive thing.”

Peter nodded.

“But Derek doesn’t like me,” Stiles said, wincing when he heard how that sounded out loud. “The dude barely tolerates me.”

“Yet the two of you are able to collaborate when necessary?”

He shrugged again, this time not saying anything.

Peter paused for a moment. “That you were willing to help my nephew, when he was both Beta and Alpha, speaks very highly of you,” he said. “And the fact that he has not taken care to ensure your safety is reprehensible.” When Stiles looked up at him, shocked, he held up a hand. “You have more than proven yourself as a member of the Pack. You should be treated as such.”

“So, what, you’re making up for Derek by taking me out for steak and talking about this stuff in public?” Stiles asked.

“There is no one in any of the surrounding four booths, and there are no other wolves in this restaurant, pet. Until I secure a house, it’s either this or your house, and I have no interest in risking being shot by your father should he walk in unexpectedly,” he said.

Stiles smirked. “You’d heal, though.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m inclined to actively seek out pain,” he said, quirking an eyebrow at Stiles.

“Fair.” He frowned suddenly, brows furrowing in confusion. “So if you’re being all respectable, why not use your own credit card?”

“Derek owes you much more than a dinner,” Peter said. “And as disappointed as I am to acknowledge, he is my Alpha. Consider this my first attempt to appropriately integrate you into the Pack.”

“And if I don’t want to be in your Pack?”

“Darling, why ever not?”

“I mean, that question alone is it’s own reason,” Stiles said, scowling at the man. “Don’t call me darling.”

Peter smirked but nodded. “Back to business, then,” he said. “When you woke up, did you notice anything?”

“Other than it was the Argent basement, and that I was tied up to some kind of support beam, you mean?” he asked before stopping abruptly, gnawing on his bottom lip. “You promise you’re not gonna hurt me?”

He nodded again. “You have my word.”

“They had Erica and Boyd there, hooked up to some wire setup that had a car battery attached to it,” he said. “Gerard came down, asked me a bunch of questions about what I was doing and who it was with, and gave a bunch of threats. It’s going to get me killed, it’s gonna get Scott killed, it’s gonna get my dad killed. Even threatened Melissa,” he said.

Peter frowned, expression gone dark. There was a glint of menace in his eyes that reminded Stiles exactly who he was sitting across from.

“Gerard got me pretty good, cracked a cane across my ribs. I screamed, and Chris came down.”

“And what did Christopher do?”

“He freaked out. Kind of. I think. I don’t know if Chris freaks out like a regular person,” he said. “But he grabbed the cane, broke it in half, and made a big deal about me being the Sheriff’s kid. Gerard eventually got the point and told Chris he’d let me go, but before he took me upstairs, he gave me a message and told me to deliver it to my mutts.”

“A message?” Peter asked, voice almost silky and eyes an electric blue.

Stiles froze, staring wide at Peter as a voice in the back of his head started screaming _Danger! Danger! "_ Peter, man, I get that this is like a Hatfield McCoy on steroids thing for you, but can you tone down the killer instinct? Squishy human here, and I would like to not be eaten tonight.”

Peter was silent for a moment, eyes flickering before fading back to their usual blue. “My apologies,” he said.

Stiles nodded, hesitating for another moment before continuing. “Boiled down to he’d see every dog dead, since you’re all abominations, and if he had to burn down the rest of the preserve to smoke you out, he wouldn’t hesitate to track Derek down and put him on the pyre to start the fire so he could finish what Kate started,” he said, speaking quieter and quieter until he’d finished.

That had Peter silent long enough for their food to be set down, expression carefully schooled into one of neutrality as the waiter approached. After several long minutes, he let out a quiet breath and started eating the steak. “And you told no one that message?”

“You’re the lucky winner,” Stiles said faintly.

Peter hummed before taking a bite. “And Boyd and Erica?”

“Wait, what?”

“It is not the first time I’ve heard a threat against my Pack, Stiles, and there is more information that I need before I can determine any sort of next steps forward,” he said. “Boyd and Erica.”

“I was tied up the whole time I was in the basement, but when Chris was putting me in the back of his car, I told him that if he didn’t get them out, I was going to straight to my dad about them. Said something about kidnapping minors and human trafficking,” he said. “I don’t know if he let them out or not, but if they aren’t seen in town by morning, I’m following through on that.”

Peter smirked. “You are a vicious thing,” he said, returning to his steak.

Stiles hesitated for another few seconds before starting on his own.

“How involved was Allison?” Peter asked suddenly.

“You’re not gonna go on another killing spree, are you?”

“If Christopher does not release my nephew’s wayward Betas, I will not promise him a long life,” he said. “But otherwise, no. I’m not feeling particularly homicidal at the moment.”

Stiles scowled for a moment, stabbing at his steak. “She was there. Watching. Gerard kept talking to her, but he didn’t let her stick around when he pulled the cane out,” he said. “She didn’t do anything, just watched.”

“Would you like me to kill her?”

Stiles jolted, shaking his head. “No, no more killing, dude.”

“Don’t call me dude.”

“Whatever, Peter, but I’m serious. No more killing. My dad has to deal with enough shit as it is,” he said.

He frowned. “You would have me show her mercy when she took part in your torture?”

“I would have you forget she exists,” Stiles said, stabbing his fork in Peter’s direction. “I don’t like either her or Chris right now, but I don’t want to see either of them dead. Scott’s still in love with Allison, and if Chris disappears, that’s gonna bring way too much attention on my dad. He’s had enough to deal with with the whole kanima bullshit. If Chris ends up dead, he’s going to bring the feds, and I don’t want my dad losing his job. Dead man who deals in weapons is federal level’s worth of investigation.”

Peter was silent for a long moment before nodding. “Even if his body is found out of your father’s jurisdiction?”

Stiles nodded. “He still lives in Beacon Hills, _dude_ ,” he said, tone sharp. “I’m serious.”

Peter’s eyes flared blue for a moment before settling. “Acceptable.”

Another silence settled between them, this one more tense.

“Were those your only questions?” Stiles asked once he’d finished off his steak.

“One more, for now,” he said mildly, as though he hadn’t just advocated for murder. “Do you want to be part of the Pack?”

Stiles hesitated. “I don’t want the Bite.”

Peter smirked, though he didn’t comment on that. “Our Pack always had humans,” he said. “It’s not entirely uncommon, either, particularly for the larger Packs,” he added.

“So I can stay human?” he asked.

“If that’s what you’d like.”

He frowned. “But you’re rocking blue eyes now. You couldn’t Turn me.”

Peter shook his head. “Correct.”

“Would Derek force me?”

“Not if he knows what’s good for him,” Peter said, a bit of a growl in his response. “A competent Alpha can acknowledge the value of humans in their Packs, as well as the consequences that can come about as a result of a forced Bite.”

“Like what you did to Scott?”

“What I did to Scott was an aberration, an act committed by a man out of his mind, and something I would never have done if my mind was anywhere near intact,” he said. “In established Packs, the consequences are much more drastic. Entire Packs have been brought to ruin from a Bite given without consent.”

Stiles nodded absently, absorbing the information. “And now?”

“And now what?” Peter asked conversationally.

“Are you in your right mind?”

The older man leaned back a bit. “I will never be the same as I was before the fire, but I am much more stable than when I first woke up,” he said. “Which is why I’ve invited you to join me for dinner. And why, if you want to be part of this Pack, I am more than willing to provide you the resources you’ll need to keep yourself as safe as possible.”

That piqued Stiles’ curiosity and he narrowed his eyes at the man. “What kind of resources, exactly?”

Peter’s lips twitched up slightly in what might have been genuine amusement. “Whatever sort of resources you need. Money, weapons, books, shelter. We Hales are wealthy, and I will not allow a Packmate of mine to go without something I can easily provide,” he said.

“Really?” Stiles asked, suspicious. “And if I asked you to, like, pay for my entire college tuition or pay off the rest of the mortgage on my dad’s house?” he asked.

“If it becomes necessary, I can do that.”

Stiles was only barely able to stop his jaw from dropping at the immediate response. “Seriously?”

Peter nodded. “Pack is serious business, Stiles,” he said. “You weren’t introduced to our world in the best way, but you have such _potential_. I would hate to see it waste away, so I intend to nurture it as much as you allow,” he said. “And yes, I am aware you think that’s creepy,” he added when Stiles again jabbed his fork in Peter’s direction.

“As long as you’re aware.”

Peter just nodded again. “Do you want to be part of the Pack?”

“What about Scott?”

“Scott is capable of making his own choices, though any conversation had with him will be less pleasant than this one,” Peter said. “You will not be pulled away from your friend.”

Stiles frowned slightly, knowing there had to be more to it than that. “Why’s his got to be less pleasant?”

“Because he manipulated my nephew at the behest of a hunter. An _Argent_ ,” he snapped, eyes flaring briefly blue. “I will not allow that to pass without some form of-”

“You’re not killing Scott,” Stiles said, tone brooking no argument. “I mean it. You do that and I’ll find a permanent way of putting you in the ground.”

Peter growled lowly at the threat. “He put my nephew’s life at risk.”

“Like you never have?” Stiles retorted. “I’m fucking serious, Peter. Scott walks away from any conversation you have with him in one piece.”

Peter glared at him for a moment, eyes once again flickering blue.

Stiles didn’t look away.

Finally, Peter nodded. “Acceptable. He’ll walk away from our conversation in one piece, no matter his decision on the matter,” he said. “But he will have to answer for his actions. If not to me, then to Derek, at the very least.”

“But he’ll walk away.”

“He will walk.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes at the older man, doubt niggling away in the back of his mind.

“Any other orders for me, pet?” Peter asked, an inscrutable expression settling on his face.

He scowled. “Leave my dad and the cops alone.”

“Oh, I have no intention of attracting any more attention from law enforcement,” he said. “Does your father know about-”

“No. No, he doesn’t, and it’s gonna stay that way.”

Peter nodded. “Also acceptable. Would you like to order dessert?”

Thrown by the sudden topic change, it took Stiles a minute before snorting, amused. “Sure, why the hell not?”


End file.
